


Redefining Victory

by AndroidPalindrome



Series: The Convergence of Prismic Points [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babyfic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, In which I screw around with IDW canon willy-nilly because why the hell not, Invictus' sire is exactly who you think it is, Mech Preg, Other, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Sparklings, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndroidPalindrome/pseuds/AndroidPalindrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, Fortress Maximus chose exile after his PTSD episode on the Lost Light, with the reason being the sparkling playing with blocks on the floor in front of him.</p><p>A snapshot in which the ex-warden of Garrus-9 reflects on lost pride, his unexpected yet far from unwelcome single parenthood, and the fact that while Overlord had taken so many things from him, he'd given him one thing he'd never return, even if given the choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redefining Victory

As he laid on his stomach on the floor and watched his daughter play with her toy blocks, Fortress Maximus came to the conclusion that he’d never stop being fascinated by his daughter.

 

He hadn’t seen or thought a lot of sparklings in his lifetime. He had been an only child, his friends did not have any younger siblings, and his sire’s death and the war came too soon, far too soon, for him to have any notion of having a child, or wanting a child, or what a child would be like. Sure, Max had assumed that he would probably have a sparkling if he survived the war, but that was about it. It was kind of like how one assumed that they would one day bond with someone, raise a family, build a life that wasn’t percolating with war and death. It would happen, one day, maybe, eventually, but now was not the time to be dreaming of a future so distant, it wasn’t even a pinprick on the horizon.

 

Now the war was over, and Fortress Maximus had his child. No bondmate, but that didn’t really matter in the end, because all he really needed at the moment was his little bitlet—with her round cheeks and tiny helm fins and stubby little fingers. He had his child, his Invictus Maximus, and though he hadn’t anticipated or planned for her in the slightest, he wouldn’t have her in his life any other way. It was almost horrifying, that moment when he was holding her in his arms for the first time, when he realized that he would willingly go through the events of Garrus-9 again, tens of hundreds of thousands of times over, if it meant having his little one in his arms. Instead of tormenting him, however, the realization brought with it a sense of serenity he hadn’t felt for over four years. The ex-warden’s victory over Overlord hadn’t come with violence or hatred or rage; it had come with loving this fragile, sweet little thing that had come out of the Pit itself—from wanting to live for her and die for her and help her reach a future of peace and happiness that he had never been able to seize himself. From clutching this tiny creature to his chest and thinking, _yes, this is what happiness feels like. This is the first time since my childhood that I have felt truly happy. My bitlet is the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

It was because she was so new and unexpected to him, because the mere fact that she existed was such a _wonder_ , that Fort Max found his baby so utterly interesting. During the first few days of her life, he wouldn’t even sleep—just spend the whole night studying the snoozing baby on his chest; from the way she kicked her feet when she was dreaming, to the little wheezes and chirps she made at random, to how she would curl into his palm whenever he covered her with his hand. It didn’t take the ex-warden to learn that her cries were not just random, monotonous wails—they were her own language. She had a hungry cry, an overwhelmed cry, a lonely cry, a tired cry, a scared cry…cries upon cries, each with its own timbre and neigh-indiscernible bond fluctuation, and he soon learned how to pick out each meaning without a conscious thought. Eventually, Fortress Maximus would catch Vicki so early in her “distress” that she rarely descended into full weeping, and her emotional equilibrium began to develop far sooner than he expected for someone her age (as her doctor and everyone they ever met on the street liked to comment, but really, can’t anyone that’s not a medical professional just mind their own business?).

 

When Invictus wasn’t playing or sleeping, the large green and blue bot carried her everywhere with him, either in one arm, pressed tightly against his chest, or in a makeshift sling he’d fashioned out of one of his sire’s old senatorial cloaks. She rarely fussed when she was carried, save for when she was hungry. She was either too busy sleeping or studying the strange new world around her with wide optics, her discoveries accentuated with numerous chirps, beeps, squeaks, and clicks. He would always respond to her whenever she “talked”, just so she knew that he was there and listening, because he knew he’d hate to be ignored by his carrier if he were a sparkling. He also talked to her constantly, but not sparkling talk, since Pious once mentioned that he’d conversed with Max as if he'd been a final frame from the moment he was born. So he had lengthy conversations with her (which she did her best to respond to in her “non”-language), and he read to her every night, even though his carrier had forced any love of reading he once had out the window by forcing him to read nothing but classics and non-fiction texts. Fortunately for him, his little bit appeared to love romance novels as much as he did (with him skipping over the interfacing bits), since she never made a peep during those sessions, only followed his finger across the screen with those bright red, innocent optics. It was precious, to put it lightly.

 

Fortress Maximus had been terrified that he’d fail at being a parent (just like he’d failed on G-9), but he seemed to be doing a pretty good job, given that Invictus grew bigger and stronger and happier and more articulate by the orn. She was a giggly, shining little thing, who at first shied away from new experiences or unexpected stimuli by burrowing into his chest plate, shivering all the while. She grew braver over time, probably because she was reassured that her carrier was always nearby and ready to save her from the bad things, and by the time she started crawling, her shyness had evolved into a slightly timid curiosity—a falter before pushing forward, a hand pausing before touching a new thing, a glance backwards at her sole parent to make sure that she was going to be alright. She rarely got into a lot of trouble—which was slightly concerning, because Fortress Maximus didn’t want her to be too afraid of taking risks—but he was hopeful that she would grow out of it the more she aged. It looked promising so far.

 

Now he was lying on his stomach in the living room, head resting on his palms, as he watched her assemble a block tower with the fastidiousness usually reserved for mature architects. Invictus appeared to excel in the arts more than anything else, other than the reading, and although Fort Max had no general appreciation for art, he knew enough about it to appreciate his bitlet’s early attempts. Her fingerpainting sessions consisted of the large sparkling slapping random colors together to see which oil melanges looked the best to her, even holding up her work to her carrier for his critique, and he noticed early on that she had an eye for pleasing color combinations, even when it came to shade and light. She could spend an entire day on modeling clay if she didn’t have to sleep or refuel, and she was always testing the limits of the wooden building blocks he’d procured for her when she was still a newborn. The ex-warden made a mental note to pick up some new shapes when he went into town next, as well as some texts on art theory; he had a feeling he’d need them as time went on.

 

At the moment, Invictus looked as if she was attempting to reconstruct the municipal building they passed by in the main city weekly. It was slapdash at best, but her concentration was one of the most endearing things he’d ever witnessed in his life. She had just learned how to sit herself up on her thighs by herself, and was using her newfound height to replicate the spire on the top of the building. The green and purple sparkling seemed to have finished constructing the base with rectangular blocks, and was now holding the triangle topper in her little hands, turning it back and forth and beeping in concern.

 

“ Afraid it’ll fall, little bit?” Fort Max smiled and slid a hand out from under his chin, poking his daughter in the cheek.

 

Vicki squeaked and dropped the block in shock, causing her carrier to burst into laughter. “ I’m sorry, my darling—I didn’t mean to scare you. You just looked so troubled.”

 

The sparkling cheeped in disproval, bond flaring with annoyance, and the ex-warden had to hold back another chuckle as he patted her helm fins. “ You’re doing just fine, Invictus; you can always rebuild it if it falls back down. You know what I’m saying, right?”

 

The waves of contentment and purring seemed to indicate that she was more focused on the attention of his hand than any words she might be able to understand with her young processor. When he moved to pull his hand away so she could get back to her work, her little fingers suddenly shot up and grabbed his thumb, bringing the ensnared digit down to her face.

 

Fortress Maximus pushed himself up on his free arm, glancing at her curiously. “ Something wrong, little bit?”

 

For a few astroseconds she looked at her sire as intently as she’d scrutinized her construction project. Then her face broken into a smile, and she kissed and nuzzled his thumb, bond flaring with love.

 

“ M-m-ma! Ma! Love Ma! Love Ma!”

 

His mouth dropped open.

 

Not just her first word—his name—but also a coherent “sentence”?! Maybe he was doing something right after all.

 

“ Ma! Ma, Ma, Ma! Maaaaa!”

 

Ignoring the embarrassing wetness gathering in the corners of his optics, the ex-warden sat up on his legs, grabbed his daughter, and hugged her to his chest, nuzzling the top of her little head with his nose and flooding her with pride and happiness.

 

Vicki squealed in response and snuggled into his arms. “ Love Ma! Love Ma!”

 

In his former life, the mighty Autobot warrior Fortress Maximus would have been embarrassed at the tears streaming down his faceplates, or how his voice broke from emotion in response to something as simple as a child’s first words, but his pride had been decimated in Overlord’s hands years ago…and all for the better. The mech he was now—the survivor, the Autobot expat, the startlingly successful single parent, the patrolmechon of the New Iacon border—was glad he could fling himself into the joy his child brought him without a second thought. Pride be damned, he’d been waiting for this moment ever since he felt her tiny spark pulsing next to his in the darkness of the torture chamber.

 

“ That’s right, little bit…I’m your Mama. And I love you, too. More than I think you’ll ever know.”

 

This was what victory felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're confused (since this story kind of comes out of nowhere), here's the situation: Fortress Maximus comes away from Garrus-9 with Overlord's rape child, who managed to survive in a state of delayed gestation in spite of his time on Garrus-9 and Delphi and Whirl shoving a spear in his chest. After said spear-shoving incident, in which he almost loses the child he actually wants and is only saved through First Aid's intervention (the only one on board who knows), Fortress Maximus chooses exile on Golarm Prime rather than staying in the brig, because 1) he's terrified to how others would react to a Phase Sixer child, and he and First Aid can't keep it a secret for much longer, and 2) who the hell would raise a child on the Lost Light in good conscience, seriously? The child, Invictus Maximus, turns out to be the universe's most powerful creampuff, and he loves her dearly.
> 
> This is one little part of a whole big AU verse, actually. More coming whenever I have the time.


End file.
